Eddie, my 2-year old neighbor kid, is fascinated by anything garbage. Garbage trucks, garbage men, garbage bins.
Every Friday he puts on his “I love garbage” t-shirt, his “garbage fan” baseball cap, and follows the garbage truck with his dad.
Sadly my neighbors are moving out today. I am hanging out with Eddie, while they pack.
Since it is garbage pick-up day, we walk around the block, looking for the garbage trucks. They haven’t come yet.
Eddie doesn’t care, garbage bins are just as exciting. He stops at every bin, points at them, and says “Actually, this one”. Maybe a bit more like “Ashually, cis one.”
“You want to see what’s inside it?”
He looks at me stunned, clearly not expecting his dream to come true.
“Yeah.”
“Step back a little, so your face doesn’t touch the bin. I think it’s dirty.”
He happily obliges, knowing that he won’t get to see the treasures inside unless he does. With his hands behind his back, he looks at it for more than 10 seconds. Mesmerized with the white trash bag that’s in it.
“Actually, this one.”
He runs off and points at a compost bin. Same instructions, same mesmerized look. He carefully examines the leaves, grass, orange peels, and rotting kale. It is clearly the most interesting thing he has ever seen.
“Actually, this one.”
He runs over to each bin on the street and looks at its contents with the same delight as if he is looking at the cutest puppy on planet earth.
Even when bin number 19 is topped with fermenting pizza and wriggling maggots, he doesn’t back away with the slightest glimmer of disgust on his face. He looks at it like a professor studying his favorite topic, hands on his back, enthralled with magical bins.
Gosh, if I could have the same earnest wonderment when hearing criticisms, blame, demands, anger.
Just like trash, these are experiences that people dump on the street, maybe in your ears. My instinctual reaction is to back away with disgust. Or annoyance or frustration. Maybe even some righteous indignation that I deserve better than this “verbal abuse”.
But Eddie inspires me to have more openhearted curiosity and listen a little better. Perhaps not take these tragic expressions of unmet needs personally. To understand that they contain a precious request, “Hey, I want to process these painful feelings and unhelpful thoughts. Can you help me to figure out a better way to meet my needs?
In my free webinar “Tragic Expressions of Unmet Needs”, I offer insights and practices to help you be an empathetic listener to anger, blame, demands, and criticisms.
Hopefully, you walk away with:
- Understanding what a check-engine light has to do with needs
- A simple trick to translate blame and accusation into requests, without manipulation
- A neat cheat sheet to put up on your fridge for when you get stuck, so you avoid using words that will make things worse
- The one thing you need to do whenever you hear criticisms, blame, demands, and anger and have more closeness
- The fun of failure applause so you feel excited to keep practicing empathy for hard-to-hear messages, even when you fail
Friday, May 21, 2021, from 9:00-10:00 am CST.